


How To Get Away With Murder

by RunawayStray



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Drinking, Drug Use, Explicit Language, M/M, Other tags will be added as the story progresses, Sexual Content, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-12-29 00:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21145664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayStray/pseuds/RunawayStray
Summary: And despite it being such a foreign concept in Changbin’s life, stuffing dead bodies into suitcases, it feels oh so very familiar, like it’s happened a million times before, like he and the blue-haired boy were born for it, destined for it, to embark upon it, hand in hand. And maybe they were, because the sky seems to open up in a welcoming of an oasis, rain falling freely, showering the two boys, liberating them. Slowly the sheen of red runs pure, the blood lost to a gift of impunity. Aiding the two boys in their charade of innocence, evidence disappearing in a glance.And maybe Changbin’s a fool, a fool for thinking his life would be easy, a fool for thinking his life would be meaningless, a fool for thinking he would remain nameless.For Changbin is indeed a fool.A fool for the blue-haired boy.——OrChangbin tries to help a certain blue-haired boy get away with murder.





	1. With You Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first ever fan fiction. I haven't written a story in years so I'm a bit rusty and very nervous, but I had this idea stuck in my head and I really wanted to write about it so here I am.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prologue**  

> 
> Blue. Ethereal and elegant and radiant and beautiful and meaningless. Blue, a seemingly insignificant constituent in Changbin’s fragmented mural of life. A diminutive smudge dusting the edge of a decrepit canvas, nothing more than a masquerade of significance and a forgotten enticement, until now.
> 
> Now Changbin’s canvas was blue, and only blue. Untarnished from stains of reds and blacks, and yellows and greens, and pinks and purples. It was now an unmatched symphony of teals and sapphires, of ceruleans and turquoises, of azures and ultramarines, of blue. It was all he could see, day in and day out, a prodigious, never-ending sea of colour engulfing everything that stood in its way, like a ravenous beast. It would eat him alive, Changbin knew it and he welcomed it, relished in it, like it was a lonesome oasis in the badlands arising in solace, or the final swan song of a drug crazed addict’s seemingly imperishable high.
> 
> He would let it destroy him because now, anything and everything was blue, only blue, nothing else, there would never be anything else, not for as long as Changbin lived.

Mundane, in the simplest of terms, means "lacking interest or excitement". And Changbin couldn't think of a better word to describe his dull, predictable life as he pondered on the questions "What makes you special, what makes your life unique, what's something inspiring that you have done?" posed by his university professor. Mundane, the perfect way to describe the lack of excitment and adventure in Changbin's seemingly unimportant life.

"What about your music?" Questioned Changbin's blond-haired best friend, Chan, who was sat to his right absent-mindedly tapping his pencil against his old, badly damaged, oak wood desk.

"What about it?" Changbin replied already letting out a sigh of defeat, his sombre mood stripping him of his enthusiasm.

"It's inspirational, it's inspiring!" Chan said with a smile of encouragement and eyes resembling crescent moons.

"Chan, it's really not. Calling it inspirational would be a terrible misuse of the word. For it to be inspirational it would first have to be recognised. No one is going to be inspired by it if no one knows it exists. Getting a couple of clicks a song on soundcloud hardly counts." Changbin declared with another sigh of defeat.

"But you keep going, that's the inspiring part, everybody who "made it" in this world all have one thing in common, they never gave up." Chan replied, persistent in his pursuit of making Changbin realise that what he does is worthwhile, but of course, it was to no avail.

Changbin sighed once more leaning back in his chair dejected, shoulders slumped and a smile nowhere to be seen. His eyes wandered over to the top-of-the-class student Sanghoon, who was excitedly telling his friends of the time he saved an old lady from being hit by a bus.

"I don't know how I was able to do it, it was like I had the reflexes of a superhero all of a sudden!" He exclaimed, his face pulling into a smile so wide it seemed to reach his eyes. A smile so fake that Changbin wondered how anyone could ever believe him and his wild stories.

"Adrenaline" offered his know-it-all best friend Minjae. "In circumstances of life and death, adrenaline is pumped into the bloodstream at a rapid pace, meaning you can do things you usually can't."

Sanghoon nodded in what seemed as a grateful gesture for the help, but, Changbin could see the hidden distaste for his best friend's constant interruptions in his eyes.

"Yeah, well anyways, she was super grateful, thanking me for saving her life. The bus was so close I swear it just grazed her!" He finished.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Exclaimed a tall, lanky classmate who was constantly trying to get into Sanghoon's good books.

"Dude that's legendary!" Another, equally as desperate for friends, classmate praised.

"So brave, I wouldn't have been able to react so quick!" A third boy added.

Changbin rolled his eyes at the compliments and praise his fellow students were eagerly giving out to Sanghoon. He doubted that even half of his story was true, taking into account that Sanghoon liked to exaggerate almost everything.

"Do you see why a couple of clicks on soundcloud doesn't compare to stories like that? People don't want stories of people who are yet to achieve anything. They want to hear about the people who have already made it, who are already there, the people who proved that it's possible, even if it's really not." Changbin explained to his best friend who had also been intently listening in on Sanghoon's conversation.

"If being an inspiration means being like Sanghoon, then I'd rather be a failure." Chan scoffed, but the underlying sense of jealously was clearly present in his voice.

\-----------------------------------------

The subway, while hated by most, was loved by Changbin. The constant stream of sweaty, half-dead, lifeless people who were fed up after a day of overworking in a dim, half-lit, grey cubicle for next to nothing, was a relief to Changbin, as it was a reminder that he wasn't the only person living a less than satisfying life. Changbin felt ashamed that he found comfort in watching the depressed teens and adults filter in and out of the train, but the feeling of knowing he wasn't alone was a feeling that Changbin greatly desired.

But the old man that sat next to Changbin that day, as he made his way home after a long day of classes, brought an overwhelming sense of sadness to Changbin. Instead of the usual sad, disgruntled business suit clad men who crowded the train, this man was dressed in black tracky pants and a long oversized grey hoodie which was pulled up over his head in an effort to cocoon himself. His eyes were glossed over in what was either tears or the effect of the, no doubt, countless bottles of soju the man had drunk, if the strong smell of alcohol that was slowly suffocating Changbin was anything to go off of. The man, sadly, reminded Changbin of himself. Seeing the visual representation of his future self terrified the boy to no end. And as Changbin looked down at his own grey hoodie and black tracky pants he murmured a "Shit, that's me."

Changbin returned his gaze to the old man who was now succumbing to a deep slumber, lost in a dream of what could of been.

\------------------------------------------

Changbin's apartment wasn't big but it couldn't be described as small either. It had a simple layout with a small kitchen adjoining a cozy living room, a relatively good-sized bathroom and two medium sized bedrooms, one of which was set up as a home studio, filled to the brim with music equipment, both were equipped with ensuites. His relatively wealthy parents were happy to pay his monthly rent as long as he attended his classes and stayed out of their hair. And Changbin was happy to oblige with his parents' wishes as his desire to interact with them was little to none. His apartment overlooked a busy street filled with crowds of smiling, laughing, inebriated people who were out for Friday night drinks after a long, busy day at work, finally letting their hair down even if it was only for a night.

Changbin would be lying if he said he never ventured down there, indulging in the overpriced drinks and stumbling in and out of the overcrowded clubs that dotted the street. Though rare, sometimes he caved, the desire for excitement, for human interaction and, of course, alcohol, overriding his sense of rationality. Every time though he would return home early, disappointed as once again the bustle of the street, the excitement it seemed to offer, didn't live up to his expectations. Everything looked better from far away, when it was an unknown and the possibilities seemed endless, before the realisation of the truth, that it in fact was never that special to begin with.

Changbin sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time today. It was dinner time and although his parents payed for his rent they refused to pay for anything else. Meaning Changbin, like most university students, resorted to eating mostly ramen. The reason though, for Changbin's long drawn out sigh was the fact that his pantry was lacking any ramen. He let out another exasperated sigh as he realised that this meant a trip to the, no doubt, crowded supermarket.

"Fuck, why tonight!" He let out a frustrated shout. Defeated he made his way out of his apartment into the musty, mildew filled hallway. He locked his door and turned to start the long journey to the supermarket. He was stopped in his tracks though when he heard a loud bang echo through the dimly lit, mold-ridden hallway. Confused, he turned around. His neighbours rarely made any noise, only the occasional too-wild-a party or overly loud couple fighting over seemingly nothing would disturb Changbin's otherwise peaceful nights. But even then, these events would usually occur a few apartments down, never in the apartment next door. No this was highly unusual and that fact alone caused Changbin an enormous amount of anxiety.

He walked closer to the door of the apartment that met his. Listening and waiting for a reoccurrence of the same loud bang sound. The noise in question sounding like something or someone crashing into the wall after falling or, more likely, after being pushed.

After a few minutes of waiting Changbin resided in the fact that it likely wasn't going to happen again, so, intent on pushing the strange occurrence out of his mind he went to leave. But in that moment a door was flung open with so much force that it caused Changbin's dark, raven coloured hair to fly back and his brown, almost black eyes to grow wide with fear.

Out stumbled a short, blue-haired boy gasping for breath. A look of bewilderment and dread was engraved upon the boy's face as he noticed Changbin's presence in the otherwise deserted hallway. The first word that came to Changbin's head when he laid eyes on the boy was ethereal. Ethereal was the only word he needed to describe the boy who was staring at him with big, brown wide eyes that brought a warmth to Changbin that he had never known before. Even in the dimly lit hallway that cast dark shadows over the boy he still looked like something out of a dream. His bright blue hair so vivid with colour he looked like he had just walked out of an anime. His chubby cheeks paired with his wide doll-like eyes gave him a look of innocence, so pure and untainted that Changbin would of believed it if it was not for the glistening sheen of dark red that coated the boy's white shirt and pale hands. The glistening red that Changbin highly doubted was anything other than blood.

"Help me." Were the only words that left the blue-haired boy's lips, heart shaped lips Changbin noted, and how could he not notice, not when he was lost in every feature that adorned the angelic boy's face. Every inch of it, so far burned into Changbin's mind that he was sure he would remember it till the day he died.

Changbin's gaze returned to the brown orbs which he seemed to be lost in, slowly drowning. A look so deep with emotion that everything else seemed to fade away, only leaving the blue-haired ethereal boy behind. In those eyes Changbin could see the fear that clouded them like an unnerving, relentless storm, a look of utter despair, a pain so far ingrained in them that it would take years to disappear, but he also saw something else. Underneath it all Changbin saw a glint, a shine, a glimmer of pure unadulterated excitement, a glimpse of pure ecstasy, a trace of the unknown.

Something that Changbin had never seen in his own eyes.

Something that Changbin longed for.

Something that Changbin knew the blue-haired ethereal boy could give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm being very "original" and naming the chapters after songs I like. This chapter is named after the song "With You Forever" by PNAU.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. If you have any advice, suggestions or things you want to see happen in the story please comment below.
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> Cross-posted on Wattpad under the username RunawayStray1532


	2. The Less I Know The Better

Changbin, as usual, had convinced himself of something which he did not know to be true. The blue-haired boy had only spoken two words and yet Changbin had come to the conclusion that it was in fact, without a doubt, self-defence. That the blood that soaked the boy’s shirt and ran up his arms came from nothing more than a mere act of self-defence. The bruises slowly forming on the boy’s face and the fact that his shirt was torn at the bottom were sure signs that it was so, right? I mean, of course, those injuries could of been inflicted upon the boy by someone fighting for their life, but Changbin didn’t want to think about that possibility, wouldn’t think about that possibility, couldn’t think about that possibility. Don’t get him wrong though, Changbin’s no fool, but as he stood there in a half-drunk like state lost in the boy’s eyes the only thought running through Changbin’s head as he spoke his next words was ‘it was self-defence’. Well, maybe Changbin is a fool after all.

“How?”

The blue-haired boy’s head shot up. A surprised expression plastered on his face, no doubt the boy was expecting a different response from the raven-haired male. The surprised expression, though, soon turned to one of interest and intrigue. A look which had never been directed at Changbin before, and it made a shiver run down the length of Changbin’s spine.

The boy gave Changbin another once over, calculating and analysing the shorter male who hid behind a curtain of dark hair draped over his even darker eyes. The boy seemed hesitant and unsure, his fierce gaze so intense, it made Changbin squirm with discomfort. Desperate to relieve some of the tension Changbin offered up a small smile, a warm smile, a smile that showed the depths and lengths that Changbin would undoubtedly go to for the blue-haired boy. And this was enough. A flicker of relief ran through the boy’s eyes as they grew wide with a certain fondness. His hand reached out grasping Changbin’s, a layer of blood smearing onto the arm of Changbin’s jumper, but he barely even noticed, too caught up in his own stupor.

The boy pulled Changbin into the dark, dingy apartment and down the unlit hallway that led into the main living space. The only source of light coming from the large front window overlooking the same street Changbin would spend hours staring at. The hues of blues and purples that reflected off the lights outside cast an aura of light around the blue-haired boy’s face, giving him an even more dreamlike appearance. Changbin noticed the two long silver earrings that hung from the boy’s right ear, sparkling from the light of the moon. The light that seemed to frame him in a halo as if it was made for him and only him. Changbin was so distracted that he had only just registered the boy in question gesturing to the corner of the room, a troublesome look on his face.

Changbin knew what to expect. He knew what he would be met with. He knew, without a doubt, that he would be greeted with a slouched over, cold, lifeless, dead body. And maybe, under different circumstances, Changbin would of cared. Maybe he would have let out a gasp or a shout or even a scream. Maybe he would have fainted at the sight of so much blood, at a sight so horrid that it would take years to get out of one’s head. But tonight under the rays of blues and purples, in the company of the ethereal boy, the only look on Changbin’s face was one of indifference. And if Changbin was honest, his lack of concern didn’t faze him one bit. Changbin was indeed a fool.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” The blue-haired boy asked. “You can leave now and pretend like this never happened.”

“No, it’s alright, I’m fine. I’m already here.” Changbin replied, hypnotised and lost, once again, in the shine of the other boy’s eyes. 

“I want to help you.” And the look of pure unfiltered adoration that shone from Changbin’s dark glossy eyes as he whispered those words told the blue-haired boy that he was in no way lying.

The boy shuffled around on his feet and took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts.

“I’m Jisung.” He finally said. His glance shifting slightly, focusing on anything other than Changbin’s dark, black-hole like eyes that seemed to be pulling him into a trance.

The wide smile that grew on Changbin’s face after he heard those words could only be described as euphoric. A smile so sincere that it even surprised Changbin himself. A smile that he hadn’t shown, not in his twenty years of life, to anyone else other than the blue-haired boy.

“I’m Changbin.”

———————————————————

Changbin didn’t like to ask questions, in fact one of Changbin’s ‘life mottos’ was ‘the less I know the better’ or in other words, ‘what I don’t know can’t hurt me’. So, when posed with a blood soaked, forlorn, dead body whose likely demise was at the hands of his beautiful, doe-eyed, alluring neighbour. He didn’t ask why, or when, or how, or even who. No, the only question Changbin asked was “Do you have a suitcase?”

Jisung gave him a quick nod and swiftly disappeared into an adjoining room, soon returning with a large suitcase and two clean black hoodies so they could change out of the blood-ridden ones they were currently wearing.

Changbin let out a chuckle as he saw the suitcase, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“It’s pink!” He remarked. “It’s neon pink!” 

Jisung smirked. “Sorry it’s all I had, I love pink. The last thing I expected when I bought it was that it would be used for something like this.” 

Changbin nodded. “Yeah, well this was the last thing I expected to be doing tonight as well.” He said while eyeing the dead man’s body.

“Are you sure it’s gonna fit?” Jisung queried as he too gazed over at the lifeless corpse still sitting slumped against the wall, a faint trace of anxiety present in his otherwise calm, tranquil eyes. Quite the change, Changbin thought, considering the dread that clouded them a mere five minutes ago. A small smile formed on Changbin’s lips at the thought that he may have helped ease the blue-haired boy’s fear.

“Let’s see.” The raven-haired boy replied. “Um, you grab the arms and I’ll grab the legs.”

Jisung nodded and positioned himself at the head of the body, slowly reaching down and placing a firm grip on each arm. Changbin followed suit, taking hold of both legs.

Changbin looked up catching Jisung’s eyes. The playful glint present paired with the mischievous smirk led Changbin to believe that Jisung was quite nonchalant about what they were doing. In fact the more Changbin thought about it the more he realised that Jisung was rather insouciant about the whole ‘dead body in his living room’ thing. The look of terror he had seen while they were in the hallway had subsided as soon as the boy knew that Changbin was going to help him, that Changbin wasn’t going to be a threat to him.

That first look of terror in Jisung’s eyes, Changbin realised, was not the result of what he had done to the man in his living room but rather the fact that someone else knew. Luckily for Jisung, though, that someone else happened to be Changbin.

“Are we going to lift him?” Jisung asked, knocking Changbin out of his contemplative state.

“Yep, on three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Loud gasps and pants could be heard as they both heaved the slightly overweight man into the neon pink suitcase, Jisung making sure to stuff the overhanging limbs back in.

“All done!” The blue-haired boy exclaimed letting a small laugh escape from his lips, which Changbin put down to ‘he’s just relieved that the body managed to fit in’ and not ‘he’s a complete and utter maniac, I should leave right fucking now’.

“Now what?” Changbin asked, unsure of if he actually wanted to hear the answer or not.

Jisung eyed him again, the childlike playfulness still swimming in his eyes. “I was thinking we go to the airport, get on a plane, first class, arrive in Hawaii and take a couple of well earned weeks off.”

Shell-shocked, Changbin gawked at him uttering a stammered “What!?”

“Well, the beaches are famous there aren’t they, and it’s summer so what better time to go?” Jisung grinned.

“We can’t smuggle a suitcase stuffed with a dead man into an airport, through a shit-ton of security, onto a plane and into fucking Hawaii, are you insane!?” Changbin cried out. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

“Would you leave if I said I wasn’t joking?” Jisung asked.

“Of cours......” Changbin started but once again was quickly lost in the taller boy’s eyes, wide and chocolate brown and completely and utterly breathtaking. Changbin was enamoured to say the least. Saying he would leave would be a lie and, judging by the look on Jisung’s face, he would know it’s a lie too. 

“No I wouldn’t.” Changbin sighed, self pity seeping through, he was fucked, completely and utterly fucked.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that we aren’t going to Hawaii, although the beaches would have been pretty spectacular.” Jisung chuckled.

Changbin threw his head back letting out a sigh of relief and a small laugh. “That wasn’t funny, for a second there I thought you were literally fucking crazy!”

“Changbin,” tsked Jisung, “I have a dead man stuffed in a neon pink suitcase in my living room, and you don’t think I’m at least a little bit crazy?”

“Shit, well when you put it like that, guess I’m at least a little bit crazy too for helping you.” Changbin admitted.

Jisung laughed as he reached down and pulled up the suitcase by its handle. “We’re not done yet. Come on crazy, let’s go.” He grabbed Changbin’s hand and started pulling him towards the front door of the apartment.

Changbin, startled, quickly pulled his hand back, causing the pink suitcase to fall to the ground, a fearful look on his face. “We can’t go out there, people will see us.” 

“What did you expect us to do, just stay here?” Jisung remarked, obviously annoyed at the shorter male, as he picked up the fallen suitcase. “The suitcase was your plan?”

“I know, I...., I didn’t think this far ahead, shit!” Changbin groaned.

Jisung sighed. “Well lucky for you, I did.” In one swift movement the blue-haired boy grabbed Changbin’s hand and pulled him and the suitcase both out into the dimly lit hallway. Usually the lack of light in said hallway bothered Changbin immensely, but today as he and Jisung carted a dead man down it, he was entirely grateful for the shitty lighting. 

Jisung stopped suddenly, turning and facing Changbin, pulling him in close. Changbin’s breath faltered and his eyes widened as Jisung leaned in close, eyes full of his signature playfulness. His breath fanned the side of Changbin’s cheek which was glowing a slight crimson red from the sudden closeness of the blue-haired ethereal boy. The scent of honey engulfed Changbin’s nose, so sickly-sweet that Changbin thought he would pass out any minute now. 

Jisung moved in closer, his lips now brushing Changbin’s ear. “Just follow me, you’ll be alright.” He whispered. Every word spoken from Jisung’s mouth left a shiver running through Changbin’s ear. Every syllable, every letter felt agonisingly slow to Changbin, who was slowly losing his sense of reality, slowly falling into a deep trance, he was sure he was going to completely lose it if Jisung didn’t stop soon. Lucky for him though, or unlucky, Jisung pulled away as quickly as he had pulled in. A wide smile present on his face, showing nothing but childlike innocence, seemingly unaware of the effect he had had on the shorter raven-haired male. 

“Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after the song 'The Less I Know The Better' by Tame Impala.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you have any advice, suggestions or things you want to see happen in the story please comment below.


	3. Only If For A Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You're the only light"_  


The elevator was small, well small when it was occupied by one person, but now, with two boys and a large neon pink suitcase, it was fucking tiny. So as the elevator made it’s slow descent to the below ground car park, situated underneath the apartment building, Changbin was trying hard, really hard, not to pass out, which was quite a difficult task when he was pressed flush against Jisung. So close he could see every non-existent blemish on the boy’s face.

“It’s tight in here.” Jisung remarked playfully.

“You think?” Changbin replied, trying not to sound like he was slowly dying.

The walk to the elevator had been entirely uneventful much to Changbin’s relief. The thought of a drunk, noisome, vexatious person stumbling up to them, laughing at the pink suitcase situated between them and insisting to know what was inside terrified Changbin to no end. Luckily though, as they had made their way to the elevator they weren’t greeted with the unpleasant sight of another human. Now all they had to do was make it to Changbin’s car unnoticed and unbothered, which Jisung seemed to think was a certainty but Changbin dabbled in the opposite line of thought. The thought that what would be waiting for them was an army of police, guns pointed, ready to fire and an awaiting cold, dark, lonely cell which Changbin had no doubt he would meet his demise in. He was wrong though, as the elevator dinged and the two boys exited, the only thing waiting for them was a sea of cars. 

“It’s this way.” Changbin told Jisung gesturing to the far left row of cars. Jisung nodded and they both started making their way toward the crowd of colours.

Changbin had no idea how they had come to the foolish decision to use his car. He had already implicated himself enough in the covering up of the murder, but now his car was going to be caught on multiple security cameras transporting a dead man to his final resting place. Of course if anyone looked at the footage the cameras caught they would be none the wiser to the heinousness taking place, but the possibility still irked Changbin. Nethertheless, when pressed with the question, “hey man, can we use your car?” from Jisung, Changbin could only nod eagerly and offer up a “yeah, of course.” Common sense and rationality at this point had seemed to abandoned Changbin.

“Hey Jisung!” A deep voice shouted suddenly, startling Changbin.

A blonde, cheerful, statuesque man stood a few meters away, rendering Changbin slightly confused as to why he was shouting. A puzzled look was etched upon the boy’s face, which was dusted lightly with a constellation of shiny, golden freckles. The boy was quite beautiful with his chocolate-brown eyes and bewitching smile, quite beautiful indeed. This boy was none other than Lee Felix.

“I didn’t know you knew Changbin?” Felix said, attention on Jisung. Changbin was shocked to learn that Felix knew his name. He, of course, knew Felix’s name. Everyone knew Felix’s name. Hell, Changbin couldn’t count the amount of times that the freckled boy’s name had left Chan’s lips. It felt like every day he would have to sit through one of Chan’s hour long rants on why Felix was the only boy ever. Chan’s constant googly eyes whenever said boy was present left Changbin feeling annoyed and enervated. They had never actually spoken though. Changbin wasn’t sure if Felix even knew that he and Chan existed. He doubted the boy had even looked in their direction once. But here he was, the name Changbin seemingly commonplace in Felix’s mind.

Jisung looked to Changbin, a look of concern present on his face. "Um yeah, he’s my neighbour, how do you know him?”

Felix looked surprised for a second, obviously caught off guard by Jisung’s sudden abrupt question. “Uhh he’s Chan’s best friend, right?”

Changbin smirked, already imagining Chan’s ecstatic reaction when he informed him of this new development in their “Get Lee Felix to fall in love with Chan” mission they had been working on for the past year, mostly to no avail.

“Yeah I am, I didn’t know you knew Chan.” Changbin replied.

“Oh, I don’t.” Felix said, shuffling around on his feet. “I’ve just seen him around.”

_Why yes, this new development would very much interest Chan,_ Changbin thought to himself.

Felix’s eyes shifted to the unmissable neon pink suitcase attached to Jisung’s hand. Eyebrows raised and with a smirk at his lips, he sent Jisung a questioning look.

“Uhh, my sister left it at my apartment and I need to give it back to her. She’s leaving soon so we’re kinda in a hurry.” Jisung said with an air of urgency.

Felix nodded with an apologetic look. “Yeah okay, sorry for holding you up man.”

“Nah, it’s cool. We’re still gonna be on time but we need to leave right now.” Jisung assured.

Felix nodded again. “It was nice seeing you Jisung and,” he said, turning to face Changbin, “it was nice to meet you Changbin, tell Chan I said hi.” 

Changbin smiled. “Will do.”

Felix gave the suitcase a final glance before turning and walking to the elevator. Leaving Changbin in awe to the fact he was unaware that Felix lived in the same building as him as well as the fact that Felix even knew Jisung.

Jisung grabbed Changbin’s hand, sending a jolt of electricity to attack his heart, and started pulling him towards the car.

“Come on, we’ve got to move quickly.”

Changbin nodded and allowed himself to be pulled along by Jisung.

They arrived at his small, black hatchback parked just off center, in Changbin’s usual fashion. He handed his keys over to Jisung who unlocked the car and opened up the back left door.

“Help me lift it in.” 

Changbin walked over and helped heave the heavy suitcase into the back seat. Dusting off his hands, Jisung turned to Changbin and muttered a quick, “I’ll drive.” He quickly whipped back around, yanking open the driver’s seat door and jumping into the small car. Changbin, slightly startled from Jisung’s quick actions, followed suit hopping into the passenger seat.

Changbin looked over at Jisung. Despite the obviously stressful situation they were in he still looked calm, well at least he looked calm on the outside. If there was a whirlwind of a storm going on inside Jisung’s head Changbin couldn’t tell. This sense of calmness eluding from Jisung, soon affected Changbin’s own psyche, he felt a sense of relief and contentment wash over him as his stress slowly faded. Jisung was like a drug to him.

“Where are we going?” Changbin asked, fatigue lacing his voice.

Jisung glanced over at him, a grin etched on his lips. “You’ll find out.” He started up the car and pulled out of the parking space before putting his foot down and flooring it out of the car park.

“Dude, slow down!” “You don’t wanna kill a second person tonight, right?” Changbin cried out.

Jisung laughed. “And what if I told you I do?”

Changbin looked at Jisung, eyes wide. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Jisung grinned, giving him a wink. “You’re not supposed to know.”

———————————————————

Red lights, those damn motherfucking red lights. Changbin was sure they had been caught by every single one of those bastards that lined the roads of Seoul. Every time they had to stop and wait felt agonisingly slow, silently staring at the harsh scarlet, pleading for it to change. He would often look over to the car next to them, usually being greeted by a person staring straight back. Everyone of them, unaware of the boys’ cruel deeds that night, blissfully ignorant.

They had been driving for awhile, now outside of Seoul. Jisung had his window down to air out the stuffy car. His blue hair was blowing in the wind, shining from the lights outside and the moon in the sky. His eyes were fierce and hardened but his face was relaxed, a small smile at his lips. He looked content, he looked happy, he looked beautiful.

Changbin’s usual sharp features were now softened as well, his jaw hung loose and his shoulders slumped. His eyes started to close as tiredness took over, it was now well into the night and a good nights sleep was off the table. Jisung glanced over to Changbin, a small smile on his face, a smile full of affection. Jisung was sure that if it had been anyone else that had witnessed his untimely intrusion into the hallway, this night would have gone very differently. Jisung was incredibly lucky.

“How far away are we?” Changbin asked, a couple hours later, arousing from his slumber.

“We’re nearly there.” Jisung replied, pulling off of the highway and down an adjoining road. Changbin couldn’t see anything but the dark green shrubs and overhanging trees that swarmed the road. A jolt of fear struck Changbin at the realisation that Jisung might be planning to not only bury one body tonight, but a second one as well. Changbin didn’t actually know Jisung, no matter how much he yearned to, and Jisung didn’t know Changbin either. Him being a liability to Jisung seemed probable in Changbin’s mind. Maybe the boy didn’t want loose ends. Maybe his kind smiles and the affection in his eyes were an act perfected through years of practice. Maybe that’s why he wanted to take Changbin’s car, so he could dispose of it after, after he had done disposing of Changbin.

“It’s really dark.” 

Jisung looked over at Changbin, the small smile still present on his lips. “It’s supposed to be, we don’t want people seeing us, do we?”

Changbin chuckled nervously. “Yeah, of course.”

Jisung sighed, noticing the anxiety and consternation in Changbin’s eyes. “You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He said, the luminous moonlight reflecting off of Jisung’s glossy eyes enhancing the look of sincerity clouding them.

“I trust you, Jisung.” Changbin sighed. “I have no idea why, but I trust you wholeheartedly.”

Jisung let out a chuckle, exhaling loudly. “I’m really lucky, like really fucking lucky it was you standing in that hallway, or else I would have been fucked.”

“Well you never know, I might actually be an undercover cop, sticking around to see where you hide the body and then boom, swat cars, helicopters, fucking tanks!” Changbin joked.

Jisung laughed. “I highly doubt you’re a cop, you don’t look like one.”

“What do you mean I don’t look like one! I’m strong, buff, ready for a fight!”

Jisung scoffed. “And short.”

Changbin rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re like a cm taller than me!” He retorted.

“I’m not the one saying I’m a cop.” Jisung pointed out.

“Well it’s obvious you’re not one, but me, I could be.” 

“Don’t they have height limits?” Jisung teased.

Changbin groaned. “We’ve known each other for literally a few hours and you’re already dissing my height. Hell, I’m helping you bury a dead man!”

Jisung raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at his lips. “We’re not burying him.”

Changbin gave him a confused look, perplexed by Jisung’s confession. A few seconds later though, his unspoken question of ‘Well what the hell are we doing with him’, was answered by the reveal of a beautiful, vast, strikingly picturesque lake that spanned the foreseeable horizon. An enchanting mist kissed the surface of its still, inky black water, which reflected the dazzling, resplendent night sky. It was stunning, it was sublime, it was ethereal, just like the blue-haired boy. It was eerily perfect, in every way.

“Wow!” He exclaimed, a short rush of breath leaving his lips.

Jisung nodded. “It’s pretty right?”

“It’s beautiful!”

“It’s more than he deserves.” Jisung derided.

Changbin was curious to find out why but decided not to pry, settling for his life motto, ‘the less I know the better’, once again.

Jisung drove around to the side of the lake before stopping the car, pulling the keys out and turning to face Changbin.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” He started. Changbin offered up a quick nod acknowledging the fact that this indeed was happening, any inkling of a dream erased by the quick pinch he gave his arm. Jisung continued, “we’re going to get the suitcase out, move it over to the side of the lake. Then we’ll grab a few rocks and chuck them in with the body, to make sure it sinks, and finally we’ll throw the suitcase into the lake and hope that no one ever finds it.”

Changbin nodded, grateful that at least one of them had a plan. “How’d you know about this place?”

“I’ve been here before.” Jisung explained briefly, not giving away too much information.

Once again, Changbin opted for his self-concluded vindication of _‘he used to come here when he was a kid’_ or _‘he and his friends used to party down here in high school’_ and not the thought that maybe this body won’t be the only one resting at the bottom of the lake.

Jisung gazed at Changbin, his face pulled into a questioning expression. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, there’s no turning back now. Let’s just get it over and done with.” Changbin replied, taking in a deep breath, gathering his reservations and worries and turning it into a determination unlike anything he’d ever had before.

“Cool, let’s go shorty.” Jisung grinned before opening his door and jumping out of the small car.

“Hey!” Changbin protested, but Jisung was already opening the back door, eyes set on the pink suitcase that sat in the backseat.

Changbin quickly got out too, running over to where Jisung stood. They both lifted the suitcase out of the car before heaving it over to the side of the lake. 

“Okay, now we need rocks.” Jisung said, standing up.

Changbin nodded before heading off to a particularly rocky part of land beside the lake. He soon returned, holding two medium-sized but well-weighted rocks.

“These good?”

“Yeah, they should do. I’ve got a couple here too.” Jisung said, pointing to the two rocks that lay beside him.

Changbin placed the rocks down with the others before facing Jisung. He already knew what had to happen next, and even though the first time he laid eyes upon the body he was unfazed, this time the gravity of the whole situation had finally sunk in and Changbin wasn’t sure he could face the dead man a second time.

“Cover your nose, he’s been stuffed in the suitcase for a few hours now, and it’s been really humid tonight so...., well you can imagine.” Jisung warned as he reached for the zip.

Changbin shivered, fear setting in. Jisung gave him a final nod before pulling the zip back and flinging open the lid of the suitcase. The smell that hit them next was foul, no foul is an understatement, putrid would be a better word, putrid and fetid. Changbin thought he was going to pass out for a second, vertigo clouding his mind, but he soon regained his composure, placing his hand over his nose and peering down at the body. The man, Changbin now noticed, had black hair and scrawny features. He seemed to be of a medium height, it was hard to tell based on the contorted position his body was placed in, he was dressed in a black T-shirt and a matching pair of black jeans. A look of utter terror was frozen upon his face, his mouth pulled up in a grimace and his eyes closed shut. The dried red, almost black blood, reflecting off of the light of the moon, cast a ghastly glow over the lifeless man. The scene was horrid but almost, in a sickening way, beautiful, terribly beautiful. 

Changbin hadn’t noticed the man before, well of course he had, but not like this. He hadn’t noticed the features of the man, what he was wearing, what he looked like and the expression plastered on his face. Changbin had only seen a dead body, he’d only seen the remains of a man not the man himself. He’d been so far removed he’d forgotten that the man was indeed a human being, and that he indeed was dead. _Shit,_ Changbin thought to himself, _I’m fucking losing it!_

Jisung swiftly placed the rocks in beside the body before zipping the suitcase back up again. “Let’s throw it in.”

They both grasped the sides of the suitcase lifting it up off of the muddy ground.

“Let’s do three swings and then we’ll let go.” Jisung prompted.

“Okay.” Changbin replied, his hands starting to ache under the weight of the dead man and the rocks.

“One.” Jisung said as they swung the suitcase back.

“Two.”

“Three.”

With a loud grunt and a shout they flung the suitcase into the lake where it landed with a loud splash, sending ripples cascading down the lake’s placid surface.

The two boys stood there, side by side, slightly gasping after lifting the heavy bag. The moonlight illuminated both of their faces, drawing circles of light. Both boys’ eyes where open wide with looks of bewilderment as the suitcase started to sink below the pitch black surface of the beautiful lake. The warm air surrounding them that hot summer’s night acting as a blanket of warmth. The soothing noise of the trees rustling in the wind paired with the occasional chirp of a bird made for a beautiful, serene, peaceful night. It was perfect, well as perfect as a night like this can be.

Jisung glanced over at Changbin, his signature playfulness still swimming in his eyes. “Thanks for helping me.”

Changbin smiled, a little lightheaded. He felt surreal standing next to the blue-haired ethereal boy and despite all that had happened tonight he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. “Thanks for not killing me.”

Jisung laughed, eyes shining with amusement. He turned back to face the pristine lake. A look of sadness glazing over his eyes. Changbin followed his gaze, confused by the sudden change in emotion. “You okay?”

Jisung returned his gaze back to Changbin, staring deeply into his blacker than black eyes, a smirk returning to his lips. 

“Yeah, it’s just a pity. I really liked that suitcase.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after the song 'Only If For A Night' by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Make sure to send your love and support to Stray Kids and Woojin, they're obviously going through a really hard time at the moment and even though Stray Kids won't be 9 in person anymore they'll always be 9 in spirit.


	4. Talk Show Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I'll be waiting, with a gun and a pack of sandwiches and nothing"_  


News, Changbin hated the fucking news. Whether it was on TV, transcribed in a newspaper, or merely passed along word by mouth, he despised it. A depressing story of a mother gone mad, taking her own children’s lives or of an astray car going a few kilometres too fast down the wrong lane, a collision only inevitable, would only exacerbate Changbin’s already melancholic view of life. So he often opted to be unknowing of the world’s current events, not a particularly wise decision, but a decision nonetheless. This past week though, the news had become Changbin’s life. He lived and breathed it. It was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing on his mind when he went to sleep. Quick glances at his phone, hour long TV news programs and uncomfortable fifteen minute train rides, spent squashed between two overweight men, trying to watch the small screen of his laptop, had become Changbin’s life. He was up to date on everything and anything that had happened in the past week, the amount of car crashes, the amount of robberies, the amount of drug-fueled rages and most importantly the amount of murders.

You see, Changbin had become sure, undoubtedly sure, that he would hear his or the blue-haired boy’s name leave one of the many news presenters’ and talk show hosts’ lips he would spend hours listening to. That the mention of a pink suitcase being found in a lake, a horrendous secret waiting within, would only arise in a matter of time. Every day he woke up with a feeling of dread eating away at him, waiting for the inevitable discovery of the body and hence the inevitable end of his life, but, despite Changbin’s unequivocal point of view, that day hadn’t come, and so he was only left with the face of a dead man lurking in his dreams at night and his own self-ridden guilt. A guilt he wanted to share with someone else, a friend, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t seen Jisung over the past week, they hadn’t run into each other in the hall and Jisung hadn’t knocked on his door and Changbin didn’t dare knock on Jisung’s. He hadn’t seen him since they returned that fateful night, his last glimpse of him, a mischievous wink and an elusive smile before a flash of blue hair disappeared into the dark abyss of an apartment. Changbin should of gotten his phone number, but lamentably, Changbin was the archetype of an invertebrate. He was starting to think he dreamt it all up, some sick, twisted nightmare, better described as a dream, the blue-haired boy nothing but a figment of his imagination. He wished he could share it with Chan but going up to his best friend and saying ‘hey, so I think I may or may not have helped my neighbour hide the body of a man he killed last Friday. I need some help figuring out if it actually happened or if I’m just going batshit crazy, can you please help me?” didn’t seem like the best idea. So alas, Changbin was stuck dealing with it alone.

Chan wasn’t stupid though, he could tell that something was bothering Changbin. His constant fiddling and jitteriness paired with the look of unwavering worry in his eyes were blatant signs that something was wrong. So today, as they both sat in the university’s library studying, Chan decided that it was about time he questioned Changbin on his recent abnormal manner.

“Are you okay, you’ve been acting strange lately?”

Changbin’s head shot up from his textbook, a confused expression present on his face. “I have?”

Chan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, don’t play stupid with me, I know you. I know when something’s bothering you, it’s written on your face.”

Changbin let out a small laugh. “No seriously, I’m alright, just tired.”

“If you don’t want to tell me that’s alright, I just want to know your okay. I know how you can get.”

Changbin scoffed. “What do you mean ‘how I can get’?”

Chan sighed. “Changbin, you’re the not the happiest person around, you’re down a lot and you may not see it, but sometimes it gets really bad. I’m just worried that you’ll do something..... something you regret.” And he wasn’t lying. There were days when Changbin would only mutter a few words, mind astray, head hung low, a hebetudinous never-ending sorrow, like an ailing life holding onto their last breath. On these days Chan would make sure to keep Changbin close, watching his every move, sick to his stomach with worry that if he let him out of his sight, even just for a second, he would never see him again.

Changbin’s faux smile faltered, surprised by the sudden look of sincerity and seriousness in Chan’s eyes. “I’m sorry Chan, you know I never keep secrets from you but this..., this thing needs to be kept a secret. I’m sorry but I can’t tell you anything. I’m working through it though so I’m okay, you don’t have to worry.”

Chan nodded hesitantly, worry still clouding his eyes. “Okay, but if whatever this secret is gets out of hand, you need to tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll help you, no matter what. Okay?”

Changbin smiled, grateful to have someone as kindhearted and caring as Chan by his side, his altruistic nature never seizing to amaze Changbin. “I will, I promise.”

Chan smiled back with a look of soft tenderness. He would do anything for the boy, absolutely anything. An unconditional love ever so dangerous, a love decidedly perilous, a love riddled with self-sacrifice.

Awakening from his stupor his eyes skirted past Changbin, opening wide with veneration. “Oh shit, it’s him!”

“What!” Changbin choked, whipping his head around to see who Chan was talking about, half-expecting to see Jisung. “Oh.”

Walking through the large double doors of the library was none other than the one and only Lee Felix, smiling wide, books in hand. An embodiment of the sun, capturing the eyes of many, like moths to a flame.

Changbin rolled his eyes before turning back to focus on Chan who was still staring wide eyed at Felix, mouth slightly agape. “Dude, you literally saw him yesterday!”

“I know, but every time I see him it’s like... it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.”

Changbin groaned. “Man, that was so fucking cheesy.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “Just because you haven’t found someone like that yet, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me.”

This made Changbin chuckle, because unbeknownst to Chan, Changbin had found someone like that. And now cheesy thoughts was all that Changbin’s mind possessed.

“What are you laughing at?” Chan asked, slightly offended.

“You.” He replied, laughing again.

“Wha....!” Chan started but quickly stopped, staring behind Changbin once again with round eyes. 

“He’s looking at us! Laugh again.” Chan said frantically.

“What, why?” 

“So he thinks I’m funny.”

A groan left Changbin’s lips.

“Come on Changbin, it’s not that hard, you were laughing a few seconds ago.”

“Because you said something funny.” He pointed out. “Say something funny.”

Chan glared at Changbin, clearly irritated. “Sometimes you’re really annoying. Do you not remember the time I sat with you for four fucking hours in that stupid cafe, helping your chicken-hearted ass build up enough courage to go ask out that guy that worked there?”

“Yeah I remember, it didn’t work, he already had a boyfriend.”

“Yes, well if would have been helpful if you had found out that information before we sat there for four fucking hours, but that’s beside the point. The point is I helped you.”

“I know you did and that why I loveeeee you Channie” Cooed Changbin, a smirk playing at his lips.

Chan sighed, letting out a loud groan. “Okay, okay please stop, I’ll tell a joke.” A sudden serious look glazed over his eyes, “Changbin,” he said as another sigh left his lips, “I never wanted to believe that my dad was stealing from his job as a road worker, but.....but when I got home, all the signs were there.”

Changbin stared at him for a second before he burst out laughing. “That was such a shitty joke.”

“Man, fuck you, I’m trying here.” Chan riposted, exasperated. “Wait shit, he’s coming over!”

“It worked!” Changbin exclaimed, spinning around.

“Changbin stop staring you’re making it obvious!”

“Like you don’t make it obvious enough already.” He scoffed, spinning back around to face Chan again who was now staring intently at the desk, a look of trepidation in his eyes.

A few seconds later a loud cough interrupted Chan’s staring match with the desk. They both looked up and were greeted with a warm smile and rosy cheeks.

“Hi.” The boy said, gazing at Chan.

“Hey.” Chan managed to choke out.

Changbin had the urge to roll his eyes but was quickly reminded of his own amorous ardour when around Jisung.

Felix smiled at Chan, an underlying sense of shyness clearly present. He then turned to face the raven-haired male. “Hi Changbin, fancy running into each other again.”

“Hah yeah funny that, hi.” he replied, glancing over at Chan who looked to be in disbelief, eyes wide with an accusatory look. He was obviously shocked at the revelation that Felix knew and had ran into Changbin, and even more shocked to the fact that Changbin hadn’t mentioned it.

He gave Chan an apologetic look, honestly the whole running into Felix thing had slipped his mind, his thoughts lately, being only fixated on Jisung.

“What were you laughing at?” Felix questioned.

“Oh it was nothing, just one of Chan’s shitty jokes.”

“Can I hear it?” He asked, looking over to Chan excitedly like a lost puppy.

Chan’s eyes opened wide with fear and shock, this was not part of the plan. “Oh, nah it was really bad, Changbin just finds everything funny.

That was a lie, making Changbin truly laugh was in fact quite a difficult task, but he had to play along.

“Yeah it’s true, it wasn’t that funny, I just laugh at everything.”

“Aww, come on guys, I wanna hear the joke, please.” Felix insisted, the cute pout on his face causing Chan to fluster. Changbin would be lying if he said he didn’t find it adorable as well.

“Okay, okay, but I’m warning you it’s really bad.”

“I don’t mind.” Felix said with delight, happy to have finally convinced Chan to tell him the joke.

Chan proceeded to retell the joke, a wide smile on his face, thrilled to be finally talking to the boy of his dreams.

Felix let out a loud laugh, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides, causing everyone else in the library to look over with confusion, and maybe with a little bit of jealously, wishing that they were the one who had caused Felix to laugh so wholeheartedly. Changbin wouldn’t blame them.

Chan looked surprised but pleased. Elated to the fact he was able to make the endearing golden freckled boy laugh.

“Man, that was actually pretty funny.”

Changbin had the urge to scoff at Felix’s seemingly childlike sense of humour but he knew better than to offend Chan’s beloved, darling old Felix. So instead he stood up and excused himself, knowing it was the perfect time to leave and let Chan have some one on one time with Felix.

Chan looked up into Changbin’s eyes, panic stricken. “Hey man you don’t have to leave.”

Changbin only chuckled before saying a quick goodbye to Felix and Chan. A few strangled Changbin’s from the older male could be heard as he walked away, but he knew Chan would thank him later, he always did, an almost maddening constant, mystery to many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after the song 'Talk Show Host' by Radiohead and the quote at the top is a lyric from the song, it's my favourite Radiohead song along with Karma Police (which I'll definitely be naming a future chapter after, I think the name is very fitting for the story).
> 
> Thanks for reading, if you have any suggestions or questions, feel free to leave a comment below. Make sure to stream Astronaut for good health!


	5. The Art Of Peer Pressure

Blue. Ethereal and elegant and radiant and beautiful and meaningless. Blue, a seemingly insignificant constituent in Changbin’s fragmented mural of life. A diminutive smudge dusting the edge of a decrepit canvas, nothing more than a masquerade of significance and a forgotten enticement, until now. 

Now Changbin’s canvas was blue, and only blue. Untarnished from stains of reds and blacks, and yellows and greens, and pinks and purples. It was now an unmatched symphony of teals and sapphires, of ceruleans and turquoises, of azures and ultramarines, of blue. It was all he could see, day in and day out, a prodigious, never-ending sea of colour engulfing everything that stood in its way, like a ravenous beast. It would eat him alive, Changbin knew it and he welcomed it, relished in it, like it was a lonesome oasis in the badlands arising in solace, or the final swan song of a drug crazed addict’s seemingly imperishable high.

He would let it destroy him because now, anything and everything was blue, only blue, nothing else, there would never be anything else, not for as long as Changbin lived.

He was wearing black tonight, funny that. A sleek charcoal dress shirt and a pair of matching skinny black jeans, a rare novelty for Changbin. But tonight was special, tonight was a party, a huge party, hosted by the one and only Lee Felix. It was Chan’s idea to go, of course it was, it was always Chan’s idea. Sneaking into the university’s cafeteria after hours to steal a few day-old donuts, leaving only a crumb trail for the rats behind, following the boy clothed in red for hours because _‘we just have to know where he hides his weed’_ and waiting until Tuesdays to buy their weekly dose of ramen because _‘Mrs. Park’s eyesight is shoddy’_ and _‘she’s bound to miscount’_. Despite his seemingly altruistic nature, Chan had ‘the art of peer pressure’ mastered.

After Changbin’s departure from the library the previous day, Chan and Felix had got to talking. Talking about life, school, work, Chan’s pet dog, Felix’s parents, the broken vending machine Chan and Changbin had been kicking all year to get free chocolate, and, unsurprisingly, Felix’s upcoming house party. A party which Changbin and Chan were now a guest to. A copious amount of convincing had to come from Chan for Changbin to even consider coming. A few bribes of _‘I’ll give you chocolate’_, and _‘I’ll buy the alcohol’_, and ‘I’ve got weed’ along with a guilt trip of _‘please don’t make me go alone’_, eventually persuaded Changbin to tag along. If he was honest though, what really, deep down, convinced him to go, was the thought that he might just catch a glimpse of the blue-haired boy.

So here he was, stood back against the wall, beer in one hand, chocolate in the other. Eyes glazed over, already tipsy. A slurring inflection coating his voice as he languidly talked to Chan who was going on and on about Felix and Felix’s house. His house being something definitely worth talking about. Located in the affluent district of Gangnam, it boasted high ceilings, gilded glass chandeliers, so sharp they would draw blood at a touch, gold encrusted furniture paired with tall ruby curtains and a plentitude of polished marble. It was luxury and ostentatiousness at its finest. The abundance of penurious uni students lining the many rooms of the house seemed a harsh contradiction to the immaculate white couches and glossy marble flooring. For once everyone seemed out of place, not just Changbin.

“Here, try one of these.” Chan said, shoving a small red plastic shot into his hands. 

Changbin’s eyebrows raised, eyeing the bright red mixture. “Jelly shots, what are we, high schoolers?” 

A groan left Chan’s lips. “Come on Changbin, live a little.”

“I’ll stick with my beer.”

“Beer’s boring, don’t be boring.” Chan said as he downed the bitter red mixture, his face grimacing in disgust.

“Boring’s my personification.”

Chan scoffed before downing another shot, this one half-melted, Changbin cringed at the sight of the viscous liquid. “Whatever, I’m going to the weed room.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” He snickered.

“The _weed_ room.” 

“He has a fucking weed room, what the fuck even is a _weed_ room?” Changbin laughed.

Chan rolled his eyes before placing a firm hand on Changbin’s shoulder. “You’re a big boy Changbin, you can figure it out.” And with that he sauntered off, leaving Changbin in the dark corner he had claimed as his the minute they arrived.

Said corner acted as his hideout and was located in the second room of the house, a lounge room of sorts. It was already filled to the brim with loud crowds of people. There was the young girl who was already off her face after, what should be, an innocent amount of shots, and the scrawny man who sat in an opposite corner, who looked just a little too old to be here, encased by clouds of marijuana. The party animals stood dancing in the middle, enjoying the first party of the many they had planned for tonight and lastly there was the group of teens, who had somehow snuck in unnoticed, sitting slumped against one another, wasted, their alcohol tolerance, little to none. 

His bottle was now empty, only a dribble of the golden liquid remaining. A new one awaited in the kitchen, a few doors down. It was only a short walk but Changbin still felt a wave of anxiety flood through him, like a dam breaking free. But alas, a beer was needed and a journey ahead, so off he went, past the foul-smelling dancers soaked in sweat, past the blonde blandishing the brunette in a vain attempt to climb the social ladder, and past the old, scrawny man who was now eyeing him with a look of voracity.

The sterile smell of cleaning products paired with the familiar stench of alcohol suffocated Changbin as he entered the kitchen, basked in white and beige akin to the rest of the house. A series of trays lined the bench, adorned with rows and rows of red coloured shots. Each one as sickeningly sweet as the last, but maybe, just maybe, if they were blue, Changbin would of downed the lot of them. A quick visit to the fridge and a new cold beer later he returned to the crowded living room and shuffled back to his spot. He was soon accompanied by the presence of another man, leaning beside him, slightly brushing his lower left arm. The man from before. That same look of hunger still present in his eyes, like a lion stalking its prey.

“Hi.” He whispered, voice thick with lasciviousness.

Changbin glanced over with a look of wariness. “Umm, hi, do I know you?”

The man smirked. “No.”

An unwashed shirt, crawling with sweat, clung to the unkempt man. A man indubitably void of hygiene and the slightest tendril of dignity. The type of nightmarish man you would find living in your attic, ransacking the fridge of its food, and desecrating the toothbrush of its innocence. A man who would lurk in dark alleyways at night, cloaked in black, foreboding malevolent deeds.

“You looked lonely.”

The stench of alcohol and marijuana coating his breath, suffocated Changbin, who was feeling more and more faint.

“I’m fine.” He replied, hoping the aversion lacing his voice would be enough to deter the direful man.

It seemed to work, the man uttering a simple goodbye before disappearing into the next room. Changbin let out the shaky breath he had been unknowingly holding, and shook out the shiver wandering his body, stabbing him with a sharp pain akin to that of a branding iron. He needed to find Chan, and he needed to find him now.

———————————————————

A few rooms down disclosed the older male, anchored in the nucleus of an exuberant dance floor, adorned by harsh fluorescent lights and raucous house music. He was having the time of his life, and of course he was. All eyes were on him as he swayed side to side, hands laced around a paradisaical waist, Felix’s waist. His head buried in the crook of the boy’s neck, his lips whispering sweet nothings, a cloud of fervour embracing them both. Around the room eyes shot daggers, others fondness, both directed at the two boys spotlighted in the middle. The pair of them, undoubtedly mismatched. Chan’s tattered converses, falling apart at the seams, and his frizzy blond hair, bleached one too many times, were a harsh contradiction to Felix’s lavish clothes and impeccable appearance, and although they seemed like polar opposites, they still harmonised together as one, perfectly in synch, like they were destined for one another, they probably were.

It was beautiful, any hardships faded to oblivion, and caution, thrown to the wind. They were the only ones there. The only ones to exist. A sole entity, blithe and carefree. The last two surviving flowers of a forgotten garden bed. Undisturbed by the sea of eyes, only focused on each other, as if they were two misplaced sandcastles sitting on the beach together, watching as the waves finally came crashing in.

A sharp jolt of jealousy strikes Changbin as the thought ‘Jisung And I would look just as perfect together’ invaded every corner of his mind.

But Jisung’s not here. Jisung’s a vague recollection of memories in the back of his head, nothing but a hazy feeling of peacefulness and serenity. Jisung’s the faint shiver running through his spine the moment he steps outside. Jisung’s his sudden love of blue heaven milkshakes and long late night walks along the beach. Jisung’s the smell of honey and the taste of mint. Jisung’s the continuous, never-ending ache of desire in his heart. Jisung exists everywhere and anywhere, but here.

“Hello again.”

It should be honey. 

It should be honey and mint and sweet-smelling cologne that invades Changbin’s nose. But it’s not. It’s rotten eggs, aged milk and forgotten fish. Because it’s not Jisung, it’s the farthest thing from Jisung. It’s the man from before, leaning against the wall, pressed close against Changbin, that same look of hunger still swimming in his eyes.

“You ran off.”

A slight feeling of pressure and the unmistakable scratch of nails against denim, find Changbin’s thigh. A tentative tease, naive callowness, like an inexperienced teenager. But Changbin knows better, this man was no beginner, no amateur, he was an overused song on replay, a seasoned professional.

A shove of the hand should send him on his way right? Wrong.

“What’s wrong pretty boy, don’t you want to play?” A sickening grin laced the man’s words as he reattached his hand to Changbin’s thigh.

A cold sweat broke out over Changbin. The feeling of sheer panic flooding through him as he once again pushed the man’s hand off.

“I’m not looking to hook up.” Changbin’s attempt at keeping the slightest bit of composure in his voice was lost to the man’s tempestuous stare.

“Who said anything about sex, we can play a different game.” His hand grasped Changbin’s thigh once again, this time tightly, any sense of the tenderness before, now lost. “I have so many games we can play, angel.”

A wave of nausea hit Changbin as he clenched up in fear, tipsy and lightheaded. Was this really happening? This can’t be happening! The stench on the man’s hot breath, though, was enough to sober anyone up.

“I’ve been watching you all night.” He smiled. “You looked so lonely, so broken, so lost. I can help you find yourself, don’t you want to find yourself, pretty boy?” The man’s eyes were telling, telling of the horrors he had planned for the raven-haired boy. Plans that would no doubt shred Changbin of any tendril of innocence he had left.

If Changbin was the confrontational type he would have punched the man in the face by now. He would have kicked him so hard in the gut, his intestines would have decorated the floor. But Changbin wasn’t the confrontational type and the man seemed to know that, his fight or flight response had simply stopped halfway on freeze. So instead his eyes found Chan with a look of pure desperation, pleading for the blond-haired boy to notice him. 

It seemed luck was on his side today.

Anger clouded over Chan’s eyes as he noticed the fearful look on the raven-haired boy’s face and the wandering hand caressing his thigh. Anger turned to rage, ears from white to red, face from calm and peaceful to fierce and livid. Chan was ready to tear the man apart, like Changbin was his five year old son and the man, an ice cream truck driver whispering ‘there’s more candy inside’.

He quickly broke away from Felix, still keeping one hand attached, and started storming over to the man and Changbin.

The man hadn’t noticed yet. His eyes still set firmly on Changbin’s body, taking in every line and curve with pure lust. “I could make you feel so......”. The man was ripped away in an instant. A loud grunt left his lips as he was shoved hard against the wall. Strong hands held him in place, before a loud crack echoed through the hollow room. 

The man’s nose was broken, there was no doubt about that. Crooked and angled in such a way, it would never look the same again. A stream of red gushed from his nose, seeping into his mouth and through his splayed fingers he held in a vain attempt to stop the blood.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?!” Chan roared, blood reaching temperatures higher than the sun.

Another ear-splitting crack could be heard before a deep voice told Chan to stop, a voice brimming with admiration and a slight hint of arousal. Chan looked over to Felix and then back at the man, who was still crouched over in pain. “Did you see what he was fucking doing, this fucking pervert!”

“I know, and if he doesn’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops!” Felix said, before directing his angry tone at the repulsive man. “So leave right fucking now!” 

The man, thankfully, straightened up and quickly left, not once glancing behind. Changbin was glad because if he hadn’t left, there was no telling what would have happened. Felix wouldn’t have called the cops, the copious amount of drugs floating room to room would not go unnoticed by the police, and Chan probably wouldn’t have lasted a few more seconds before completely losing it. The man got off lightly, lucky bastard.

Strong warm arms wrapped around Changbin’s shoulders, embracing him a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, I should have kept an eye on you. I’m supposed to protect you.” 

Changbin leaned into the embrace, grateful for the warmth of caring arms. “It’s alright Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m alright.”

Chan pulled back, arms still placed on Changbin’s shoulders. A look of concern canvassing his face. “I won’t let it happen again, I promise.” 

Changbin nodded, watching as Felix placed a kind hand on Chan’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. Chan gave him a small smile before returning his gaze to Changbin, eyes wide with a determined expression.

“And if it does, I’ll kill the fucker.”

———————————————————

The once pristine, clean bathroom was now corrupted with odours of alcohol, vomit and sweat. The previously white floor now brandished different shades of undesirable colours, the walls were not much better. Copious amounts of party goers flooding in and out throughout the night, had left the once spotless bathroom in the quite the mess. The lock, hanging on to its last strand of life, had just managed to twist shut, as Changbin rushed into the room.

Stressed out and tired from the events of the night, he walked up to the sink, turned on the tap and started splashing the cold water onto his hot face. The cool liquid acting as a temporary relief to the millions of thoughts running through his head. He looked into the mirror, catching sight of his tired eyes, an accustomed accessory of Changbin’s. The inky black orbs manifested malaise from the stresses of tonight and the worries of the week. A throbbing headache brewing in the back of his head told him he needed a smoke and some cool air, so off he went.

Luckily for Changbin, despite it being summer, tonight had seemed to grace him with its cooler temperature. A slight warm breeze waltzed the air, causing the surrounding plush greenery to shiver and bow in homage. Outside was a temporary solace from the nightmares of the night.

Felix’s backyard was huge, really fucking huge. Overlooking a sea of city lights and an ocean of clinquant stars. It took a while for Changbin to reach the edge of the block but when he finally did, it was a semblance of Utopia. He leaned up against the short wooden fence, hands overlapping the splintering banister, and gazed out over the the city of lights. A shaky hand reached down into his jeans’ pocket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. That same shaky hand struggled for a few seconds before it gave birth to a flame, lightening up the pale cigarette placed between his chapped lips. A sigh of relief left his body as he took a drag, savouring every last bit of the quietude in tonight’s air. He was finally alone.

Or so he thought. 

The loud groan he heard next, would beg to differ. The loud groan that slowly turned into a loud sigh. The loud sigh that came from behind a row of rustling bushes. The loud sigh that Changbin was now making his way towards.

“Hello?” Changbin, no doubt, would be the first to die in a horror movie.

The noise halted and the bushes stilled, as Changbin neared. The person behind them, obviously startled by the presence of another. 

“Is someone there?”

Still nothing, so Changbin decided to go that one step further, quite literally. Pushing past the thorny bushes before appearing through the other side. 

“Hello.”

He face-palmed inwardly at his awkward ‘hello’, definitely not the best word to use when faced with a situation like this, a situation only befitting the strongest of minds, the heroic and courageous beings only heard about in tales. Changbin didn’t come close to that, not in the slightest, and so, a mere ‘hello’ is all he could offer as he laid eyes on the two men in front of him. 

One of them, face painted in red. The other, hair dyed in blue. One face, lying against the sharp edge of a jagged rock. The other, mouth agape with wide chocolate brown eyes. One man, belonging to a familiar nightmare. The other, a reoccurring dream.

One face, the man from before, a sleazy asshole determined to horrify and ready to pounce. Now he laid still, peaceful, like a sleeping lion, quiet at last. His face shining red with ruby befitting of royals and tranquility deserving of saviours.

The man who had caused so much pain, so much terror, so much dread.

“He tripped.”

And now here he was, so vulnerable, so placid, so lifeless, with a look bordering on innocence. So far gone from what he was before.

“I swear he tripped.”

Could Changbin be described as the slightest bit evil by the rush of ecstasy he felt coursing through his veins?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after the songs ‘The Art Of Peer Pressure’ by Kendrick Lamar and, of course, 3RACHA’s ‘Peer Pressure’.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Not long now until Clé: Levanter comes out, I’m really, really excited! I can’t wait!


	6. Smoke Up A Glimpse Of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Puff of heaven, I feel like I'm in a daydream"_  


Swirls of purple interlace twirls of blue as a cloud of smoke creates a crochet of silk. Reflecting off the lights of the city, a serpentine of colour is born, forging a mirage of something otherworldly. The curls of smoke trace back to a lone cigarette, haphazardly placed between the plush lips of a raven-haired male. A renaissance of emotions, intoxicatingly ardent, tear through the boy’s heart as his eyes meet a portrait of blue. Under the shower of rain and curls of beguiling mist, the boy’s eyes shine stars and his lips hint a paradisaical-like rapture, and with the illusion of purity and the phantom of virtue, the smoke seems to be playing a smoke and mirrors game, because the blue-haired boy looks oh so very innocent.

Ash dusts the floor as the forgotten cigarette falls from the shorter boy’s agape mouth, landing amongst the plush green grass. A familiar feeling of consternation is lost to an oasis of blue, his own private haven, a sanctuary from the horrors of the night, Changbin’s ride or die.

“Jisung?”

It may be a phantom of Changbin’s unwavering adoration for the boy, but the surrounding trees seem to shake in suspense, a front row audience to the boys’ inevitable reunion. The dull thud of music lingers in the background, remembrance of a party so far away, so far gone, it seems to only exist in another universe. The night’s air, thouroughly soaking with hedonism, heightens the feeling of longing eclipsing Changbin’s heart, a heart wholly and solely owned by the blue-haired boy.

Destiny intertwines fate as the two boys lock eyes. A look of understanding shared between them both. An understanding of the future, an understanding of one another, an understanding of what’s to come.

Maybe that’s why a pack of cigarettes reaches out to Changbin, the blue-haired boy’s own stash. An offering of comfort through bliss, but also an offering of something _else_, something _real_, something _honest_. Changbin takes the cigarette like it’s the signing of a contract between them both, a promise to never leave each other, a promise to stay together forever, a promise to die for one another.

And maybe that’s why they now sit side by side, looking out over the sweeping city. Puffs of smoke adorning the air as they idle in silence, a comfortable silence, a silence usually only pertaining to years of friendship, but with them it’s different, because despite meeting just last week, it feels like they’ve know each other a lifetime.

“What are we going to do?” Changbin says as the flicker of a flame burns out his cigarette. Not _you_, or _I_, simply _we_, because they’re a unit now, a singular entity, ready to fight the world. The connotation of we confirms the unspoken promise between them both, a promise of a lifetime. And despite the best thing for Changbin to still do is to leave, deny involvement and distance himself from the boy in hopes of a normal life, he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t run, he _stays_, because Changbin’s never going to leave, he knows that, he knows, without a doubt, that’s Jisung’s got him, hook, line and sinker.

“Do you have another suitcase?” The playfulness is still there, flourishing in Jisung’s eyes, and under the light of the moon, it radiates. The rays of light crystallise the angelic orbs, shaping them into jewels of worship. And there’s no doubt in Changbin’s mind that he’ll never meet someone else as beautiful as the blue-haired boy, no doubt at all.

“I can find one.”

———————————————————

Chan’s keys flash silver as they dangle from the ignition. The soft continuous clinging of metal acts as a mantra for Changbin’s muddled mind, reminding him over and over again of where he was, who he was and what he was doing. Eyes set on the road, Changbin dangers over the speed limit, desperate for a quick return to Jisung, worried he might not have anyone to return to. Reservations and worries cloud his mind as he races down the road, _‘what if he’s not there when I get back?’_, _‘what if I never see him again?’_. These fears are enough to have Changbin hightailing it in Chan’s car. Second thoughts had been lost on Changbin as he’d lifted Chan’s keys off the front mantle, _‘why was he stupid enough to leave them here anyways?’_, and misgivings had been dismissed when he’d taken the car without a second glance, _‘I’ll bring it back soon’_. He was on a mission now, a mission from the blue-haired boy, and nothing was going to stop him. 

Reminiscent of their first night together, a suitcase is needed and Changbin didn’t think it would have been best to go rummaging through Felix’s house in search of one, for if anyone had spotted him, questions would surely be asked. So instead a trip to the twenty-four-hour shopping center, located a few kilometres away, is underway. Time is of the essence as Changbin zooms in and out traffic, soon arriving at the large shopping center. As he mays his way through the expansive parking lot, his eyes burn red from the harsh blinking of fluorescent lights, each one screaming at him a different store name. Inside lay another assortment of bright lights and a small crowd of late-night shoppers. Last-minute anniversary gifts, restockings of beer and midnight snacks begs the people of the night. Changbin’s reason for being here, though, is oh so much more sinister. 

The last store on the left serves his needs, boasting rows and rows of handbags, purses and, most importantly, suitcases. Not a single customer’s inside as Changbin enters, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the first. Behind the counter stands a short, pot belly man. The hair on his head thinning and the lines around his mouth forever indented. A wide smile grows on the man’s face as he notices Changbin’s presence in the otherwise deserted store. Grateful to finally have a customer.

“Hello young sir, how may I be of service?” The man was eccentric to say the least. His words are accompanied by a bow and a beaming smile, and he wears a suit only exhibiting the colour yellow, and a green polka dot tie.

“Um, hi, I’m just looking for a suitcase.” 

“Well you’ve come to the right place my boy!” The man quickly dashes over to a shelf of suitcases and with a gesture of showmanship he continues on. “We have small, medium and large suitcases. Soft-sided or hard-sided suitcases. Suitcases of every colour, black, red, blue, green, purple, pink, yell...”

“Pink! I want pink.” Changbin’s eagerness comes off as fervent and the man’s obviously startled. 

“For a special lady perhaps?” The man’s smile presents intrigue, and Changbin can’t tell if it’s just pure customer service or true interest.

“No, it’s for myself.” Changbin has never been the confident type. When the table next to him found a hair in their food, they would immediately send it back, where as Changbin would simply opt to eat around it. And whenever an insult was thrown his way, Chan would always be the one to stand up and bite back. And when his parents belittled his dream of music, Changbin could only stay silent. He was never the confident type, until now. The blue-haired boy had given him the key to unlock the confidence hiding within himself. A trait he never knew he possessed, a feeling he knows now he’ll never let go of.

“Nothing wrong with a little pink my boy, it’s nice to stand out from the pack.” The man says, and for once Changbin agrees, it’s nice to stand out from the pack.

———————————————————

_‘Maybe pink wasn’t the best idea’_, runs through Changbin’s head as he walks back through the shopping center. Why? If the suitcases were ever found, and Changbin still reckons in the likelihood of that happening, the pink would no doubt stand out, and if the yellow-suit clad man happened across a peculiar story, he would surely remember the strange late-night visit from the raven-haired male who had been so insistent on the colour pink. 

_‘Maybe pink wasn’t the best idea’_, yet Changbin remembers Jisung’s words from that fateful night, _‘I love pink’_, and Changbin wants to do nothing more than please the blue-haired boy. For he would do anything to see that beautiful smile and hear that euphonious laugh, anything at all.

The doors of the shopping center are in sight, closing in, egging him on, when a brash voice calls his name. An overbearing confidence wedding fragments of intrepidity, oozes from the man’s voice, acting as a masquerade for fear. Words belonging to an astray memory, consigned to oblivion. A distant spark in Changbin’s heart reawakens for a split second before dying once again, drowning amidst a sea of blue it couldn’t dare dream to mirror.

Sanghoon.

Cashmere sweaters, chestnut loafers, top-of-the-class, Sanghoon. Locks of dyed brown hair sit atop his head, tousled from the abuse of the wind. Dimples embellish cheeks as a smile grows on the boy’s face, a smile once enrapturing Changbin, a smile of delight.

Changbin’s disdain for the boy hasn’t always been there, animosity hid memories of fondness, and hatred hid a long-lost love. Traces of remorse and regret would still torment Changbin whenever Sanghoon was around, reminding him of something he once cherished. Changbin would be lying if he said he never thought he was in love. Chan always said that he falls too quick, like a child to quicksand. A simple glance from a cute boy, and Changbin was five feet under, lost to an ocean of ecru. And he did fall quick, for Sanghoon exudes charisma and piles on charm. Money pays admiration, admiration pays desire, desire patents pain, and when your five feet under in quicksand, hate manifests towards the one who put you there. In Changbin’s case, that culprit was Sanghoon. So Changbin began to despise his every action, his every smile, creating an ocean between them both, neither one of them could cross. And although the occasional glance from Sanghoon would still send sent shivers cascading down Changbin’s spine, and despite the distant ache of longing hiding in the depths of his heart, he never dared go back, because he wasn’t going to fight for Sanghoon, die for him, drown for him in a sea of quicksand. 

Jisung’s different. 

Changbin would die for him in a heartbeat.

“Hi, Changbin.” Sanghoon’s voice exudes a forgotten temptation, an enticement of something lost and buried. Changbin can almost remember the late-night touches of skin-against-skin and the soft caress of lips-against-lips. Nights belonging to a fatuous romance and nothing more.

“Hi Sanghoon.” 

_‘Why is he talking to me?’_ Troubles Changbin’s mind. They hadn’t spoken since high school, despite attending the same university as each other, and despite taking classes together, they never dared to speak to one another. They had both seemingly moved on, leaving behind their childish high school romance for what it was, nothing more than just that, a childish game of tag. _‘So why is he talking to me?’_

“How are you?” It’s a simple question with a simple answer, but the underlying emotions held within those three simple words are devastating.

“I’m good.”

There's fondness in Sanghoon’s eyes, a love thought lost long ago, still lingers. Perhaps the intense desire’s fueled by the slither of pale skin peeking out from Changbin’s silky black dress shirt, bringing forth memories of many sleepless nights, or maybe it’s the way Changbin’s lips are parted in a lure of enticement, flushed pink and plump and oh so very inviting, or maybe it’s the look in Changbin’s eyes, reavealing the empty void, once filled by the boy, was now taken by someone else, someone new.

Maybe he sees the something that’s missing in those inky black orbs, a once requited love now lost. Because Changbin isn’t in love with him anymore, and it’s oh so very obvious, it burns through his eyes as he looks at Sanghoon with an astray mind, like he’s a stranger, a distant blip in a vast timeline. Maybe Sanghoon can’t stand the fact that he’s lost the boy that was once his.

Or maybe Sanghoon remembers. Remembers the dreamlike sensation of Changbin’s soft, velvety skin, and the symphonic worship of low silky moans only his ears had had the honour of hearing, and the featherlight touches of lips against skin and fingers through hair. Maybe Sanghoon remembers every last detail, every last embrace, every last caress, every last second of every last minute.

“I miss you.”

Changbin would be lying if he said Sanghoon’s words didn’t send a plethora of shivers running through his body, if he said it didn’t kill him inside. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leave Sanghoon’s lips with quivers of desperation, his eyes pleading with Changbin, fighting a fruitless battle. And maybe, in a different lifetime, Changbin would have taken Sanghoon’s hand and hightailed it out of the supermarket, restriking the match for an abandoned fire. But not now, not when the blue-haired boy is waiting for him.

“I am too.”

And with that Changbin’s off, feelings of enchantment and lust lost to something new, something blue. Sanghoon was in the past and he would stay in the past.

———————————————————

Obnoxious music and shouts of laughter greet Changbin as he arrives back at the party. A few lone straglers, now splayed out on the grass, had managed to make it out to the front lawn. Alcohol fuels the air and common sense is lost to self-indulgence, as the moonlight shines down on the marvels of the night. Changbin makes his way towards the backyard, making sure to skirt along the fence line in an attempt to avoid stray eyes. Soon the edge is near, and with it, a sea of green. A flash of blue endows Changbin’s eyes as Jisung’s head pops out from the bushes. A wide smile adorns the boy’s face and a flicker of relief runs through his eyes, thankful for Changbin’s return, a feeling of abandonment had been haunting the boy since the moment Changbin left. But Jisung needn’t worry, Changbin came back, because of course he would.

Jisung’s eyes grow wide with shock and a lick of amusement as he eyes the suitcase. “It’s pink.”

A chuckle escapes Changbin’s lips, reminded of his own exact words on that first fateful night. “Of course it is, it’s your favourite colour.”

It may be a falsehood of the dark, but Changbin swears he can see some semblance of a blush creep onto Jisung’s face. Eyes darting away in bashful shyness. 

“Thank you.” And although it’s a little muffled, and the alcohol’s illusion of a daydream, there’s a hint of ardour lacing Jisung’s words, and it’s enough to send scores of euphoria spiralling through Changbin’s body. It’s enough to ruin him.

“Let’s get him in.”

Memories of suppressed fear and fleeting dreams break free from the depths of Changbin’s mind as they stuff the body into the suitcase, a new body, their second body. He thought it would never happen again, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, consigned to oblivion. And despite it being such a foreign concept in Changbin’s life, stuffing dead bodies into suitcases, it feels oh so very familiar, like it’s happened a million times before, like he and the blue-haired boy were born for it, destined for it, to embark upon it, hand in hand. And maybe they were, because the sky seems to open up in a welcoming of an oasis, rain falling freely, showering the two boys, liberating them. Slowly the sheen of red runs pure, the blood lost to a gift of impunity. Aiding the two boys in their charade of innocence, evidence disappearing in a glance. 

Jisung begins to laugh, a cry of relief paired with a crow of deliverance. Droplets of rain kiss his marblesque skin, forming a waterfall Changbin can only describe as ethereal. The overwhelming rush of emotions, so fierce and intoxicating, soon has Changbin relishing in ecstasy, his own lips releasing something akin to laughter and cries of relief. If anyone were to see them, they would think they were mad, so far gone that they could never be saved, they probably are.

Charcoal meets chocolate brown as the two boys lock eyes. Fervour melts reservations of fear, leaving behind nothing but unadulterated excitement. It sends a tsunami of shock waves avalanching through Changbin’s heart, like a jolt of electricity, stopping and starting the vibrant beat of desire, of love. Changbin’s sure the sea of vulnerability is screaming through his eyes, presenting Jisung with his undying devotion, showing Jisung just how far deep in he was. And maybe, once again, it’s a hallucination of the night, but he swears he can see the same in Jisung’s.

———————————————————

The trip to the lake had been smooth sailing, no wandering eyes had caught them as they left party, everyone too drunk or too high to even notice the two boys. The long car ride was spent half sleeping and half chatting, dotted throughout, a series of bashful side glances envincing unspoken emotions. The trip felt like a peaceful morning stroll spent marvelling the wonders of life, and despite the, what should be, obvious contradictions, an overwhelming sense of halcyoness flourished in the air. When they arrived at the lake it was still as beautiful as ever. It’s water still strikingly pituresque and the sky still remarkably clear. The lavish of rain had ceased allowing the two boys to work in comfort. It was deadly quiet and tranquil, but the silence was spent in peace, because as they worked, lifting and heaving the suitcase out of the car and over to the side of the lake, they didn’t _need_ to talk, they didn’t _need_ to talk for they knew exactly what they had to do, what they had to do together.

And now, as they stand side by side, staring out over the serene lake, watching as the pink suitcase slowly sinks below the inky abyss of black, swimming its way down to join its unfortunate companion, Changbin swears he feels the slight brush of a hand ghost against his own, but it may just be another trickery of the night, fooling him once again.

Because Changbin is a fool, a fool for thinking his life would be easy, a fool for thinking his life would be meaningless, a fool for thinking he would remain nameless.

For Changbin is indeed a fool.

A fool for Jisung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is named after a lyric from the song 'Cigarette' by Offonoff feat. Tablo and Miso.
> 
> You may have noticed that I’ve changed from past tense to present tense in this chapter, after mulling over it for the past week, I’ve finally decided to change the story into present tense, I just prefer the way it sounds. So over the coming weeks I’ll be going back and changing the past chapters into present tense as well. I’m sorry if the sudden tense change was confusing.
> 
> Thanks, as always, for reading. Make sure to stream Levanter!


End file.
